


Love of a Lifetime

by antisocialhood



Series: Soul of my Soul [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's twenty-two and missing letters on his wrist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love of a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mukeclemmings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukeclemmings/gifts).



> i just wrote this in like an hour BC I'm in such a fluff mood anymore. it's really crap and I'm not even sure how long it is but here we go. 
> 
> this is for Brittycat because I can't be arsed writing centerfold or anything with tiny dick Luke, so I'm trying to make it up to you with some mashton fluff 
> 
> this is also my first work without smut or sexual content excluding convivencia (future chapters (;)
> 
> hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> {title is from love of a lifetime by firehouse}

At six years old the first letter appears, usually one of the middle ones or the last, something indistinguishable. For Michael, it's a curly 'S' that slants almost and has a long tail. It's black and thin on his left wrist, and Michael's head over heels at the thought of his soulmate.

By fifteen the second letter has appeared, a 'T' in the same soft script. They letters are distanced apart, two or three at the most between them. Michael sits for hours in his room, homework pushed to the side and tries to piece together names with the two letters.

The third letter appears on his graduation day, same writing only connected to the 'T' with swirls. It's an 'O' and Michael's never been more confused in his life.

~~~

Michael's twenty two, scraggly bearded and fighting with his roommate, Luke, again. It's the third time this week, possibly fourth, that he's stumbled in on the lanky, blonde asshole and his boyfriend, Calum, getting it on like rabbits. And Michael's all for sex, there's no doubt about it, but it's Luke - who's uncoordinated and silly, and sometimes plain dumb - and like, he's not allowed to have sex when Michael's home. It's one of their few rules, and Michael's tried his damnedest to stay out of their flat for as much as possible but it's nearing eleven at night and Michael just wants to sleep.

"I'm really sorry." Calum's a flushed mess of stammering apologies and hurried hands. He doesn't bother looking at Luke who's still spread out on the bed, naked and frowning. There's no modesty in their apartment - give when they've got someone over. But Calum's become a regular, the soulmate Luke didn't have, and Michael looked at him to be another roommate - unpaying but enjoyable all the same.

Luke and Michael go way back, to the days of eating Cheetos and wiping them on each other's shirts, and playing in the wood chips. His soulmate mark never came, body bare of the crooked print or swirly name, and at the soft age of seventeen, he gave up waiting. His body remained bare of tattoos until Calum stumbled into his life, own wrists empty of ink. He was Luke's saving grace, and Michael watched them flourish as he waited for another letter to form.

The 'H' came two weeks before his nineteenth birthday and too many shots of bourbon with Calum when Luke worked late to close the store. They'd celebrated the newest letter and Luke had come home to them sleeping on the living room floor while the a Spanish Soap Opera played.

His mum took him out for lunch and his dad met them. The café was small, a little nook next to a bookstore. It smelled like coffee and pastries and they had the best panini's Michael had ever tasted.

They talked about Luke and Calum, the apartment and finally, his soulmate. Michael hadn't pieced the name together yet and wasn't looking to. He was content with it being a surprise when the name was finally finished.

His mum held his wrist and traced over the letters with her finger. She looked dazed, pleased too that her baby wouldn't be alone one day, and Michael's cheeks filled with heat.

"You're fine." Michael shakes his head, too tired to argue anymore. He ignores the look Calum shoots him and the way Luke's eyes soften.

He's twenty-two and still missing letters.

It's not right for him to be whiny about it, if anything he should be grateful he has a soulmate rather than crying about it to his friends who have found themselves alone and trying to piece themselves together stitch by stitch.

He bids them goodnight and straggles off towards his room. The light is on, it always is thanks to Luke and his tendencies to have a light on in each room. He's clumsy and chooses to level the playing field without having to fight the dark.

Michael doesn't hear them the rest of the night, only the hushed whispers between the two boys in the kitchen followed by the scent of coffee. They're talking about him,  
probably how he's not sleeping as he waits for another letter. It's not right to worry them and Michael vows to put on a brave face the next morning. There's no need to fall apart when he's already made it this far.

~~~

Luke grills salmon on the grill while Calum steams asparagus in a pot on the stove. They kiss at the sink as Calum washes his hands and Michael watches. He wants that, the undying affection and care that his two friends have and willingly give.

It's been almost four years since the last letter and Michael can feel it in his bones that the next will appear soon. It burns through his body, igniting flames at ever nerve until the sharp cut of a 'N' is tacked onto his skin with a curly tail much like the 'S'.

Michael's eyes grow wide and his breath comes in harsh pants, catching in his throat as he reads the almost complete name over.

Whoever his soulmate is, wherever they are, they have soft and swirly handwriting, and their name is Ashton.

Calum cracks out a bottle of wine to celebrate and Luke cries because his best friend is so close to the end. It's almost over, the feeling reverberating through his bones much like the 'N' had minutes prior.

The last letter comes when you finally meet your soulmate.

They plan to go out that night, scrounge around the bars and clubs until the 'A' prints on Michael's wrist and matches up with his soul mates frilly writing. Luke burns the edges of a piece of salmon, and begrudgingly eats in when Michael and Calum argue it was his job to man the grill.

"Are you nervous?" Calum asks as he flips on the living room light. It throws a soft glow around the apartment and Luke kisses his boyfriend on the cheek.

He is nervous, extremely. But the question is more than directed at Michael, it holds a note of jealousy - small and almost embarrassed. Michael understands though, he's just about found his destiny and Calum's been born without one. He's made fine with Luke but it's missing something, the promise of eternity and love? Michael doesn't know the details but he does know Luke would give the world to make Calum smile.

They'll create their own destiny one day, Michael's sure of it.

"I am." Luke chimes in, fixing the collar of his shirt. He grins widely at his friend, almost reassuring him before parting him on the back.

They're only going to one bar tonight, Michael's request. He's not going to scour the city looking for his soul mate, not tonight at least. He orders a round of drinks and nurses a slowly warming beer through the night while Luke and Calum make their way to the dance floor.

He doesn't find Ashton but he's not all that upset. Moon Stone, the bar they're at, isn't one of the more upscale and classy bars - but Michael suspects they're looking for a college student, probably broke and looking for cheap liquor. He remembers his own college experience and how he'd been the same way. A year out hasn't changed him much, except for the knowledge that peanut shells only belong on the floor in Saloons and Texas Roadhouse, not crunching under his feet in bars.

Michael sleeps that night, window open and moon shining in the window. It's an omen, bright light in his dark days. Tomorrow will be better and different, a new day to find the person he's supposed to spend his life with.

~~~

Ashton's twenty six and the father of a baby girl, Nora. She's seven months old and the repercussions of a broken relationship. A baby was supposed to be their saving grace, a patchwork to their failing marriage and Ashton's sudden late nights.

She cries at night when Ashton leaves the fan on and likes to fall asleep on his chest when he watches the news.

Michael meets him in the same little café he'd gone to with his parents all those years ago to celebrate a fourth letter. The baby coos from her stroller and makes grabby hands at Michael, who stands behind her father in line.

They've never spoken but as Ashton turns the letter etches it's way into Michael's wrist. Ashton blinks at him, nose flaring in surprise before his smiles. "You have terrible handwriting."

Michael laughs and looks down at  
his own wrist. The smooth, black print of Ashton's name is marked into his skin, swirly and slanted. The baby coos again and yawns up at her father. He's found his forever and a little bundle of happy, and he's sure that this is all he needs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> so, there we go haha
> 
> leave some feedback
> 
> much love
> 
> trishie


End file.
